


Splintered

by Kydoimos



Category: Good Girls (TV)
Genre: F/M, lil bit dark, non-con is not Beth/Rio, okay probably very dark maybe idk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-02
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-20 13:31:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15535335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kydoimos/pseuds/Kydoimos
Summary: Beth is aiming a gun at Rio's head.Stan has questions for Ruby.And Boomer takes what he is owed from Annie.





	1. Annie

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so unsure whether I like this or not that I created a new account to post it... I am a weak human being.  
> Anyway, I adore Good Girls, but I kinda thought it was a shame that there aren't more fics out there focused on the three women, and not just Beth and Rio. Don't get me wrong, I love that ship because who wouldn't, but I love the ladies and their relationship and I wanted to explore that a bit.  
> It'll probably be pretty Annie-centric the first few chapters but there will be a bit of Beth/Rio pairing in the first few chapters, and I'm planning on shifting the perspective to them (and then Ruby) later on.  
> Thanks for reading, let me know what you think!

**Chapter One - Annie**

When I was six and Beth fifteen, our parents took us on vacation to France. Beth wanted to see the Eiffel Tower and the Louvre, to eat fresh croissants from local bakeries and visit the jazz clubs- I wanted Disneyland.

Instead, we got Bayeux. A cold, windy little town in Normandy, where we stayed at a little cottage and ate mostly food bought from the boringly average supermarket in town. Dad dragged us round the historical landmarks, and mom fussed about sunburn and UV rays despite the fact that the sun literally _never_ made an appearance. Beth, always the good girl, made her best effort to listen to our father's constant history lecture, and didn't seem to mind having sunblock slathered on her face every hour of the day. I on the other hand, dragged my feet, moaned continuously, and no one could make me wear the hat that was supposedly protecting my eyes from third degree burns. In my defense, it was neon pink and covered with love hearts- totally not my kind of fashion.

On the fourth day, we drove up to this little beach. I guess my parents had suffered enough of my shit at this point, because they left Beth watching me while they walked further up towards some kind of stone building that had been built during World War Two.

It was fun at first. Beth helped me build the _mother_ of sandcastles, beautifully adorned with seashells and surrounded by a moat filled with seawater.

"Why are you being such a suck-up?" I asked her, poking window-holes in one of the towers we'd constructed with damp sand. She rolled her eyes.

"Why are _you_ being such an asshole?" It always made me giggle when Beth swore. Our parents saw her as an angel who could do no wrong. Sometimes it felt like I was the only one who got to see who she really was underneath her polite and diligent exterior.

It was finally getting warmer, so there were more and more visitors to the beach. Beth very quickly got bored playing with me when she saw that there were other kids her age, forever concerned with the way other people saw her. She got talking to an English kid with dark hair and bright blue eyes and forgot all about me, so of course _I_ got bored. Pretty soon, they left to go find somewhere private to make out, and I wondered off down the beach, looking for my parents. I caught sight of an adorable wild rabbit up on the grassy verge above the beach, so I headed that way instead. Classic story; girl meets bunny, bunny runs away, girl gets hopelessly lost. Happens to the best of us, right?

I don't know how long I wondered about for. The clouds in the sky seemed to darken every minute, and I started to worry. I knew _I'd_ be okay, but what about my family? I suddenly thought of them all sitting around the dinner table staring at my empty seat, and tears sprang to my eyes.

"Hey there," A voice called out. It was a man's voice, but he sounded nothing like my dad. "Are you lost?" I whirled around, catching sight of a figure looming in the distance.

"No!" I tried to sound assertive, but it came out all squeaky and it was clear to us both that I was lying. The man had come to a stop less than five feet away from where I stood. He was tall, with light brown hair and large features. I remember thinking that his nose looked a little bit like a squashed tomato.

"You sure? Only your mommy asked me to come find you. We're friends, and she wanted me to take her back to you. We'd better not keep her waiting." My shoulders instantly relaxed. We'd been taught in school not to talk to people we haven't met before, but this guy knew my mom, so he wasn't _really_ a stranger. I took his outstretched hand, and he started leading me away.

"Wait, no, my mom's this way," I turned and pointed vaguely towards the direction I'd walked from. "She and my dad and Beth are on the beach." The hand holding mine tightened its grip, and the man started pulling me along. My belly felt suddenly heavy, like I'd swallowed a stone.

"She's this way." His teeth were gritted, his voice almost hissing like a snake.

"No!" I tried pulling away from him, but his arms were wrapped around me in a second, pulling my body close against his. He lifted me, walking as quickly as he could with a five-year-old writhing in his arms. I started to yell, but his dirty fingers wrapped around my face.

" _Annie_!" The shout was distant. I tried twisting my head to see where it had come from, but the man was holding me too tight.

" _Annie! Let go of my sister_!" I could see Beth now, screaming my name at the top of her lungs, running faster than I'd ever seen anyone move. The man dropped me like a stone and fled, and I collapsed into my sister's arms like a rag doll. She was sobbing, hot tears escaping down her cheeks as she hugged me to her.

"I'm sorry Annie, I'm so sorry," She gasped, her chest heaving with erratic breaths. We heard a shout, and turned in unison towards our parents, sprinting towards us with joint looks of panic on their faces. Beth's voice dropped "Please don't tell mom and dad- they'll kill me!" I looked at her, into the eyes wide with anxiety. I nodded, still too shaken to speak. Mom reached us first, and pulled us both towards her, eyes red and tear tracks still glistening on her cheeks. Dad's expression was furious. Like a lot of men, his first reaction to fear was often anger. I opened my mouth to try and defend myself, but it snapped shut when I caught a glance of Beth's agonized face. I thought of the beautiful palace of sand we'd built together, of way she screamed my name as she pelted towards me, only worried about my safety and not her own.

"What the _hell_ happened?" Dad's voice was sharp, but there was a slight tremor there too. “Elizabeth, why weren't you watching your sister?”

"It was my fault, daddy.”I said in a small voice. Three pairs of eyes swiveled in my direction. “I ran away from Beth, and then I saw a bunny so I chased it for a little bit, but then it disappeared and- and I didn't know where you were." The stony expression on my father's face told me I was in deep shit. "I'm sorry, daddy."

I remember that day for two reasons: it was the first time Beth rescued me, and the first time I'd kept _her_ out of trouble, and not the other way round.

* * *

 

My thoughts feel like tiny bullets that ricochet around my brain. Gregg left me sitting on the bench almost an hour ago, and I've only just worked up the courage to start walking back to my apartment. It seems empty without Sadie there, as though all the light has been extinguished. Evidence of her life with me lingers in every corner of our little home, but somehow it still feels as though I've already lost her.  
Sadie is the _only_ thing in my life that I've done right. From the second she started to form her own personality, I tried to make it clear to her that nothing she ever became, nothing she ever did or didn't do, _nothing_ could make me love her any less. And now, I have this beautiful, intelligent, amazing kid who is just so much better than anyone else I know. Of course I'm biased -she's my baby- but I've honestly never met a child more willing to explore who they are without worrying about what the rest of the world thinks.  
I was kinda like that when I was young too, except I _did_ care. I pretended that the bullying and bitchy remarks and exclusions didn't hurt, but my emotions exploded from me in anger and rebellion rather than tears and upset. Ironically, that's how I ended up being blessed with my daughter in the first place.

I can't help but wonder what will become of us if Gregg and Nancy win the custody case. Will they make Sadie go to therapy, pigeon-hole her into becoming a cardboard cutout of every other person on the planet? Or will she flourish under the privilege that only money can buy?  
And what about me? I see Sadie and me drifting apart, our love scheduled in weekends and holidays, our connection slowly fading as her father and Nancy take over from where I've left off. I see myself going off the rails like I did when I was a kid; smoking, drinking, generally being an asshole, so that I don't have to face the fact that I allowed the light of my life to be ripped away from me.

I'm so distracted that I walk home on autopilot, taken by surprise when I find myself standing at my front door. I place the key in the lock, but it swings forward, already unlocked.

“What the hell?” I mutter to myself, thinking that I must have forgotten to lock it before I left. I step over the threshold, and into my apartment. The lamp in the living room is casting a dull orange glow over the space. My eyes sweep the room, as though my brain is trying to identify what it is that's making the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. A prickle of fear runs down my spine, and it takes a moment for me to realize that I have stopped breathing. I listen, ears straining to hear any sound in dissonance with the rest of my apartment, but I don't hear or see anything out of the ordinary- just a lamp and the door I forgot to lock. I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts. It's been a long day, and I'm exhausted. Slipping my jacket from my shoulders, I throw it over the back of a chair. It misses the target and falls to the floor, but I decide I'm too tired to care right now.

“My my, such a messy monster.” His voice is low, controlled, and the shock of it makes me feel like I've been jolted out of my skin. I turn on my heel, already backing up against the kitchen counter.

“Boomer! What the _fuck_ are you doing here?” I don't take my eyes off him as he slowly advances, a manic gleam in his eyes. My hand wildly sweeps the counter behind me, searching for the knife I'm sure I left there earlier.

“Looking for this?” A glint catches my eye as he waves the sharp blade less than a foot from my face.

“Boomer, please-” He presses the metal against my cheekbone.

“And if you were wondering, it's the real deal.” The knife digs in deeper to emphasize his point, and I can't help the gasp rising in my throat. A trickle of blood runs down my cheek like my body is already crying for me.

“Can't we talk about this?” I ask, wondering if I'll have to get on my knees and beg for my life before the night is through. Normally, I wouldn't ever think Boomer would be capable of murder; but I can smell the alcohol on his breath, and his face is twisted into something monstrous, and unrecognizable.

“You think you're _so_ smart,” He hisses, ignoring my plea. “You lead me on, promise me things that you never had any intention of giving, and then you _snitch_ to my girlfriend? Saying what, that I'm some kind of- of-” His arms wave manically through the air, spit flies from the corners of his mouth. “Some kind of _sex_ attacker? When we all know-” He has me backed into a corner. I can't physically move any further backwards. The counter top is digging into my spine, but I press myself tighter still against it. “That it's _you_ who is the problem. You're nothing but a whore, and whores get what's coming to 'em.”

“Look Boomer, I don't want any-” I hold my hands up in what I hope is a placating gesture, and he pounces. He has my wrists tight in his grasp, a look of pure hatred marring his features. The knife clatters to the floor. I kick out at him, hard, but he dodges out the way. He sweeps his leg under mine, and I lose what little balance I had and tumble to the ground, cracking my head against one of the cupboards.

“You've made me out to be some evil bastard,” He spits, kicking me in the stomach. I gasp for breath, winded, trying to curl in on myself as he drops to his knees beside me and wraps his fingers round my throat, weighing me down with his knees on my hips. I try desperately to claw at his hands, peel his fingers away, but he is too strong. “When it's _you_ that's evil. You're the bad guy here, _I'm_ the good guy. And yet you thought you would snitch to Mary Pat, get her to break up with me, even though _I've_ kept my word.” His grip on my throat tightens. My fingers and toes are starting to go numb. It feels as though the dark matter in my brain is expanding, the light receding. The photograph on the fridge door of me and Sadie seems to stand out like a lighthouse in a storm, and I renew my efforts to get free.

“ _Please,_ ” I gasp, thinking only of my child. The rasp of my voice seems to awaken something in Boomer, and his grip slackens enough for me to take a huge gulp of air. “I didn't tell anyone anything, I swear,” I choke, trying to sit up and push myself away from him, my eyes searching for the knife. It's still in his hand. “We can forget this ever happened. I won't tell anyone, I promise I won't tell.” He laughs then, shaking his head like I'm a petulant child.

“See, the thing is, Annie Banannie-” He leans closer again, one hand pressing the knife to my throat, the other tight on my wrists. “I can't trust the promises you make.” He pins my wrists above my head with one hand, and the other brushes the curve of my body. I'm truly scared now. Tears have welled up in my eyes and my heart feels like it's performing gymnastics in the hollow space of my chest. “Just lie still, and it'll be over soon.” Like _hell_ it will.

“No, no, no, no, please-” Is all I can say as Boomer flips me roughly onto my stomach. I keep saying it, even as he rips my clothes apart, twisting me this way and that as he strips down my defenses. Someone is screaming, and I don't realize it's me until he hisses a warning in my ear to be quiet, and shoves fabric in my mouth, diminishing the ferocity of my screams and yells. I imagine this must be how a prey animal feels just as it is captured in the jaws of a predator, and I pull harder against him. His weight keeps me pinned to the floor. All of my senses are screaming at me to run, my joints feel wound like a spring, ready to burst into action at the first opportunity- but Boomer is using his belt to tie my hands behind my back now, and it's all I can do to force a panic attack away. He holds me down with one hand, his fingers threaded through my hair, pushing my face to the floorboards, so he can lift his weight from my back. For one stupid, confused moment, I think he's letting me go. Then I feel the fingers of his free hand slip down to my underwear, and he's pulling them to my knees. It's all suddenly too real now. I have to get out. I buck my hips wildly, not caring that my cheek is being crushed against the ground, not caring about how I must look- just wanting the pressure of his touch lifted. My legs kick out, but there is nothing to make contact with. Boomer gives a low whistle, and I start to sob, still murmuring “no, no, no,” as though it's the only word I can remember.

“Look-y here,” He says, his voice condescending. “Looks like we caught ourselves a bad girl, huh? You need to be taken down a peg or two; and you need to learn that when you make a promise to me-” He leans down, and licks the length of my neck, sinks his teeth into the soft skin where neck meets shoulder. “You don't get to go back on that promise.”

He breaks me open, and I can't think any more.

 


	2. Beth

**Chapter Two - Beth**

There are times in life when we are filled with so much emotion that time seems to stand still. The rush of love and joy when your newborn is placed in your arms for the first time, the crushing grief when you find out that a loved one is dead, the abject fear that turns your blood cold when a gun is held to your head. The feelings spill over, the world ceases to turn on its axis, the clocks stop ticking, we forget how to function.

That's how it feels right now, as I point the gun at the man sitting opposite me. My hand is shaking, and tears are still welling up in the corners of my eyes. Rio is watching me, his expression mildly curious, arms folded against his chest.

“It doesn't have to be like-” I don't finish the sentence. His eyes have darkened, his brow tensing. I'm no body language expert, but it's obvious that his patience is wearing thin. This is not a man who values action, not emotion. In this moment, it doesn't matter that I am a wife and mother. It doesn't matter that I've thrown them amazing parties, or that I've stayed up all night with each of them at one point or another when they're sick; it doesn't matter that I've given everything I have to my children every single day since Kenny was born. The only thing I can do now is to point the gun at the right person.

I look at Dean. My ridiculous husband. He can be so kind and loving, and he's a wonderful father, but all I can see right now is a person who faked having cancer for his own selfish desires. For just one millisecond, I consider the possibility of pointing the weapon at him and pulling the trigger. I would never do it- I don't think. Out of the three of us sitting at the table right now, Dean could be the only one who has a slim chance of survival. Someone _has_ to be here for the kids. I hate him right now, but it's not about me and what I want anymore.

Rio is still watching me. His smile is cold, confident, and it makes me wonder if he's even _slightly_ concerned about his own survival. I tighten my hold on the gun's grip.

“What gives you the balls to sit there and be sure I'm not gonna shoot you?” The words tumble out before they've even had the chance to form, and even I can't believe I've said them. Rio's eyebrows lift in surprise, but he doesn't look angry. He clicks his tongue, leans back in the chair.

“What gives you the balls to question my every move, bitch?” He asks coolly.

“I'm a mother. I fight for my kids, and the urge to keep them safe gives me more strength than you could ever imagine.” Our eyes are locked. I'm working hard to keep the fear out of my voice. Rio stands up, letting the chair fall to the floor with a clatter. He takes a step towards me, and Dean emits a grunting noise like some kind of wounded animal. I spare a sharp look in his direction before my eyes return to Rio's.

“Oh that's right, I forgot.” Another step. “See, you think that just 'cause you dropped a few kids, that gives you immunity from all the crazy shit goin' on out there.” He waves a hand in the general direction of 'out there'. “But y'know what?” Another step. “Bitches go down just as easy as men. And bitches with kids?” He's almost right in front of me. “They don't die any different. You keep playin' the mom card and talking about protecting your family, and yet it's _you_ that's brought this shit-storm to your-” He pauses, and takes an exaggerated look around. “Lovely home. Now I got friends. Good buddies, who know where I am and what I've come to do.” The threat in his words is transparent, and my thoughts immediately turn to my four babies, asleep upstairs. I close my eyes for just a second, praying that they stay asleep through all this, no matter the outcome. Rio is still now. It feels as though his gaze is burning a hole through my skull. “See, I would never hurt a kid- normally. But collateral damage happens. It'd be an awful shame for it to happen here, wouldn't it?”

I see now, that there is only one choice. There is only one path I can take now to minimize the casualties.

“What about Annie and Ruby?” My voice is starting to break. I look at the gun in my hands, my head suddenly full of images of a similar weapon pressed against my best friend's temple as she begs for her life, envisioning her kids growing up without her. I think about my little sister's pale skin splattered with blood, like when she fell from the monkey bars at the park and cracked her head open. The thought of all the potential grief and loss makes my chest feel heavy. Rio clicks his tongue again, shrugging. I'm not going to get an answer from him.

Slowly, I raise the gun. I press the barrel against my chin, trying to keep a hold of myself. If this is the only way I have to try and keep my family safe, so be it. I can't look at Dean, who is making noises of protest but seems too weak to physically stop me. Always too weak.   
My eyes are on Rio's again, and he is staring back. There is a fire there that I've never seen before, and a darkness too. I close my eyes, stand tall, take a deep breath. I release the hammer, and before there is time to chicken out, I pull the trigger.

Darkness doesn't come for me. For a moment, I wonder what has gone wrong. Then I open my eyes again, and Rio is still staring at me, head cocked to one side, thinking. The smile is back, but it's less aloof now, and more of a smirk. The feeling seems to come flooding back to my limbs, I go weak at the knees, and collapse into a chair.

“There were no bullets?” My voice is barely even a whisper. He takes the gun from my limp hand, tucking it into the waistband of his jeans. He leans in so close that I can feel the tickle of his breath when he speaks. He shrugs.

“Course not. There was a chance that you were gonna shoot me,” The admission is so ridiculous that I almost laugh. “Couldn't take that risk.”

“But- why-” He touches my cheek with one finger, and pulls away.

“This isn't over, sweetheart.” He turns, and walks away. I hold my breath until I hear the front door close.

“B-Beth?” I almost jump out of my skin. Somehow, I'd forgotten about Dean. Adrenaline is coursing through my body, and my sudden relief turns to bitter anger as I turn to him.

“You son of a bitch. If your face didn't look like spam right now, I would punch you myself.” I'm on my feet in an instant.

“What? What are you talking about? Beth, I just got beat up because of your-”

“Oh, don't act like you didn't deserve it!” My voice rises in pitch with every word. “What kind of a man fakes having cancer just so his wife doesn't leave him, huh?” His face falls.

“Beth, I- I-”

“I hope it hurt, asshole. Stay here tonight, but I want you gone tomorrow.” I push away from the table and head upstairs, trying to regain control of my breathing. For a moment, I lean against the wall outside the girls' room, the sound of my blood rushing in my ears. The kids are all asleep still, and I plant a kiss on each forehead, saying a silent thanks that I don't have to leave them just yet. Dean hasn't tried to follow me. He's probably down there nursing his wounds and getting his story straight. He'll try to spin me some bullshit that we both know I don't believe, and I won't forgive him. There is no coming back for our relationship now. There are some things that can never be forgiven, and faking cancer is pretty high up the list.

* * *

 

I stand under the hot shower for almost an hour, unable to shake the feeling of utter amazement that I'm still alive. When my skin is flushed and the shaking has stopped, I step out, heading to the bedroom in my pajamas. Now the adrenaline has faded, I can think more clearly, and it strikes me that I haven't checked my phone in hours. I should text the girls and let them know that everything is okay. If I'm safe, it's a pretty good bet that they are too.

I have eight missed calls. Six from Ruby, two from Annie. My heart plummets, and a bubble of guilt swells inside me. I haven't even thought about how Sara is doing. What if something's gone wrong? Deciding that whatever Annie wants can wait, I press the redial button. Ruby picks up immediately.

“Beth, thank god. I was starting to think something had happened to you.”

“Something did, but I'm fine. Everything is fine. How is Sara?” There's a pause on the other end of the line. “Ruby?”

“She's doing so good, but,” Her voice trails away. “Look, can you meet me at the all-night cafe across the street from the hospital?”

“Uh, sure, but-”

“I can't explain over the phone, but it's urgent.” She says hurriedly, cutting me off. “I've been trying to call Annie, but there's no answer. She must be asleep, think you could pick her up on the way? She should be there too.” My heart has started racing again. What the hell could be wrong?

“Okay, yeah.”

* * *

 

I can't get Annie on her cell either, so I head straight to her apartment. She doesn't answer, forcing me to stand knocking at the door for a good two minutes, digging through my purse for the spare key with my spare hand.

“C'mon, Annie,” I murmur. I unlock the door, but the chain is across. I call her name into the darkness, and there's still no reply. I'm starting to get seriously worried when I catch sight of a dark shape moving in the background, the small stature telling me without a doubt that it was her. “I can see you, Annie. Would you please stop messing around and come to the door?” For once, she does what I ask. The moment the chain is down, I step inside and grope for the switch on the wall as Annie closes the door again behind me. When I finally hit the lights, the sudden brightness makes both of us squint. My eyes get acclimated faster than my little sister's, but by the time my mind absorbs her swollen and bruised face and the cut on her cheek, she has seen the shock on my own. She turns away, her shoulders tensed, arms wrapped around her torso. I go to her, reaching out to touch her arm, but she moves towards the center of the room before I can make contact. She's walking a little curled in on herself. Turning back towards me, she offers a weak smile that clearly causes her pain.

“Rough day.” I ignore the joke.

“Did Rio do this?”

“What?” She looks confused.

“Did _he_ do this?” Annie shrugs and shakes her head at the same time. “Well?” I prompt gently, stepping closer.

“How could he? We put him in jail, right?” I don't answer, but after a few seconds she keeps talking, seeming to want to fill the empty space. “I think it must have been someone from his gang or something. Jumped me round the corner from here.” Annie runs a hand through her hair.

“Oh god, Annie-” I move forward, wanting to pull her close. She was always a cuddly person right from when she was small, always running to me or our parents when she was upset or hurt. It wasn't that she was clingy or whiny, she just knew that a hug and a few whispered words of comfort would always help her feel a little better. Now, she puts her hands up in front of her, halting me in my tracks. I wonder if she has a broken rib. “Are you okay?” I ask instead, trying to keep my voice soft.

“Apart from my modeling career being ruined, I'm tip-top,” She tries to smile again, and then sighs. “I'm fine, Beth. Are you? Why did you come over at,” She glances at the clock on the wall. “Three AM? Not that I don't appreciate your company, but I mean- a girl needs her beauty sleep.” I raise my eyebrows.

“No kidding. It's Ruby- we have to go meet her by the hospital. She said it was urgent, so we better get going right now. C'mon, I'll get your coat.” I pass her a pair of sunglasses too, so she can avoid drawing attention to herself. I know my little sister better than she thinks I do. I hold her coat out, and watch as she struggles to put it on.

I'm pretty sure this is my fault. Rio is punishing me, by hurting my baby sister.

 


	3. Ruby

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments and kudos... Next chapter will have a lil Beth/Rio action so stay tuned for that~

**Chapter Three – Ruby**

After ten minutes of waiting for Beth and Annie, I start tearing my napkin to shreds. After twenty, I start to rip open the sugar packets, spilling their contents on the table in white lines, and ignoring the dirty looks the waitress keeps giving me. When they finally show up, I am getting ready to start tearing my hair out.

“Finally! Took you long en-” I stop talking at the sharp look Beth gives me as she tilts her head almost imperceptibly towards her sister. The sight of Annie's face all black and blue makes me gasp. “Honey, what happened to you?”

“She thinks she got jumped by someone from the gang.” Beth tells me, helping Annie to sit before she slides in the booth next to her. My brow creases.

“What? Why would they do that?” Beth shrugs, but it's her sister I'm looking at. She hasn't taken off her sunglasses, but the bruises trickle down the whole of the left side of her face like staining on a watercolor painting. She's unusually quiet, her hair is damp and hanging limply to her shoulders, and she's wearing a plain gray sweater and sweatpants under her coat. She's not dressed like herself, she's not acting like herself- she's _not_ herself. I try to surreptitiously scan the parts of bare skin I can see while the waitress takes their orders. If she has other injuries as I suspect, she has dressed to conceal them.

“So, what's up Rubes?” Annie asks as a cup of coffee is set down in front of her. “Is Sara doing okay?” I give them a brief smile, thinking of my little warrior.

“She's doing great. Everything to plan, so far.” They both smile back at me, relief visible on their faces. Annie picks up a spoon and one of the few remaining sugar packets, while Beth continues to watch me. “It's Stan. He knows.” The spoon clatters to the table.

“What? How can he possibly know?” Beth is leaning forward, almost hissing the words. I shake my head, still reeling from the conversation myself. I tell them about our brief talk in the hospital hallway.

“I begged him to keep it a secret for now,” I sigh. “I asked him to do this one thing, after all the years of marriage and the kids, for all the love he's ever had for me. He says he'll keep it to himself for now, but-”

“How long is for now?” Beth interrupts. Her gaze upon me is fierce, but I can tell she's anxious from the way her hands are balled into fists, knuckles white against the strain. It's hard to know how Annie feels when she's wearing shades, but her expression looks blank. Every so often she shifts in her seat, like she's uncomfortable down to her bones.

“I don't know. Maybe a few days?” Beth groans and puts her head into her hands. For a few minutes, we all just sit and stare at each other, at a loss for words.

“Alright, we need a game plan.” Annie nods her agreement.

“If it's just Stan who knows, do you think we can convince him that we did it to help out the FBI?” I can't tell if she's joking or not. “We could say we got caught up in the middle of it all, completely innocently of course, and decided that the best way to take these guys down was to find a way to get them put in jail.” Beth looks like she's considering this.

“I mean, that's what we _did_ , so it's not a total lie.” I add. Annie nods again, but something in Beth's face changes. There's a pinched, agonized expression there that I don't much like. I turn to face her squarely. “That _is_ what we did,” I say, as though I'm trying to convince her of the truth. “Right?” A moment's pause.

“I have to tell you guys something.” I hear the breath catch in Annie's throat as she turns towards her sister.

“What could it _possibly_ be now?” I groan.

“Rio's not in jail. I don't know how he got out, but he was waiting for me at home. No, no- everything's fine,” She reassures us quickly. “I mean, not so much for Dean. The asshole looks like he's been put through a wrangler.” I raise my hands in an exasperated gesture.

“Bitch, what the _hell_ are you talking about?” Beth waves my confusion away.

“Not important. Anyway, I don't know what the gang's next move will be, but I don't think it should be our top priority right now.” I stare at her in outright disbelief.

“Not our top priority?” I turn briefly to Annie. “No offense sweetie, but- Beth have you _seen_ your sister's face recently?” Annie twitches agitatedly and excuses herself to the bathroom. Beth stands to let her pass but barely spares a glance in her direction, her mind seeming to be working so fast that she can't keep up with her thoughts.

“I think it's Stan we need to be worrying about.” I watch Annie as she shuffles towards the toilets, trying to summon the words to tell Beth that I don't think it's my husband who we need to worry about right now. After a couple minutes, I ask her to order us all more coffee, and head towards the ladies. I find Annie staring deadpan at the tampon and sanitary towel dispenser. She looks up at the sound of the door opening.

“Damn machine ate my quarter,” She mutters, jabbing at one of the buttons. The vending machine shows no sign of life, and she smacks a flat palm against the metal surface. When that doesn't work, she sighs, and presses her forehead against the wall. I move closer, feeling in my purse for a kotex and offering it to her. When she reaches out, I see the bruises on her wrist, and I know for sure that she hasn't been entirely forthcoming about what happened to her.

“Annie, who did this to you?” She falters, dropping her hand to her side and pulling at the sleeves of her sweater. It's too late. I cannot un-see what has been done to her.

“I already told you,” Annie tries to laugh it off, but she can't look at me. “It was someone from the gang.”

“Annie,” She takes a step back, shaking her head slowly.

“They must have known we had something to do with Rio going to jail.”

“Annie-”

“I suppose I _probably_ shouldn't have been listening to music on my iPod as loud as I was,” She tries to give me a smile, but the muscles in her jaw are too tense to function properly.

“Annie, you don't have an-.”

“Although in my defense- it's totally uncool to jump someone when they're in the muse, don't you think?”

“Sweetie,” I try, but she's shaking her head again, like a child who doesn't want to hear something unpleasant. “Annie, what-”

“And it's not like I was dad-dancing down the street or anything, just throwing some shapes, y'know?”

“No,” I tell her quietly. “I don't know.” I decide to risk taking another step closer. “What I know, is that someone has hurt you, badly. And I don't think you told Beth the truth earlier, did you?”

“Are you calling me a liar?”

“Annie, stop deflecting. You know that's not what this is.” She takes a step back as I take one forward.

“Then what is it?” I sigh, trying not to look exasperated. It's been an insane and anxious time, and I'm too tired to play games.

“You tell me.”

“Rubes, there's nothing to tell. Now I gotta pee, so if you don't mind- thanks for the kotex.” I shake my head. Whatever happened to Annie tonight, she doesn't seem ready to tell us yet.

“Alright. I'm here when you wanna talk about it; and so is Beth.”  
  
When I sit back at our booth, Beth is tapping a pen against the table, deep in thought.

“Annie okay?” She asks distractedly.

“Yup,” I lie, leaning across to see what she's writing. The paper in front of her is blank. “She'll be out in a minute.”

“I don't know how we're going to get out of this one,” She admits, rubbing her temples with the tips of her fingers. “Think our best bet might be to appeal to Stan's better nature.”

“Stan's 'better nature' is what lead to him applying to be a police officer. How can I ask him to put me above his morals?”

“Ruby, as far as Stan knows, we only did this to pay for Sara's meds and the transplant.” Annie rejoins us. She sits on my side of the booth this time, giving my arm a covert squeeze as she lowers herself down. I flash her a smile, to say I understand. Annie is one of those people who is very open in a lot of ways, but tends to keep her most intimate secrets to her chest. When she feels ready, the truth pours from her like a waterfall.

“Stan's not an idiot, Beth. Why would he believe that we were in it just to help Sara?” She gives me a guilty look. “Don't get me wrong, we all love that kid and we all want her to get better- but it just seems unlikely.”

“No, I get it. It could be a big sacrifice for another person's child, especially when you've both got kids and problems of your own. Stan'll see straight through it.” Beth sighs.

“Okay, then what do you suggest?” Her voice is tight, but her gaze softens when she looks at us. She looks defeated. “Okay. We'll figure it out tomorrow- or later today I guess. You both look exhausted. We should all get some rest for a few hours.” I think about what I'm going to say to Stan, imagining the hurt in his eyes when I tel him I can't be truthful just yet. Annie doesn't seem too thrilled at the idea of going home either. Beth is watching both of our faces, looking reluctant herself. “You can both stay at mine tonight. Ruby, I'll drop you back here, first thing.” Her gaze turns to her sister. “And you should get checked out.” We both know it's a non-starter even before Annie starts shaking her head.   
  
Beth gets a camp bed out for me, padding it out with a spare duvet and blankets. We lie in the dark, each knowing the other two were still awake, but at a loss to know what to say. I find myself thinking back to the day Sara and Harry were born, to the promises I made them both that I would keep them safe and well no matter the cost. Was it worth it, to see my baby girl grow up? You're damn right it was.   
It's hard not to be angry at the system that would happily let my child die just because our family isn't as well-off as others. What they don't know, is that our house is richer in love and memories than we could ever be due to cold, hard cash. And now, that new kidney is tucked safely away in my daughter's body. I pray to God that it takes.

Beth drops off first, her breathing becoming even, her muscles relaxing under the bed sheets. I think Annie is still awake. In the darkness, I can just about make out that she's lying on her back, almost too still to be asleep. If I strain my ears, I can hear the sounds of her breath catching in her throat, and every so often she gives a little sniff. I can't ignore the fact that she's crying into the dark. I get to my feet as quietly as possible and reach for the box of tissues on the cabinet.

“Here,” I whisper. She takes one from the box, wipes her eyes. “You want some water?”

“No,” I can barely hear her. “I'm just-”

“I know. Hold up, have you taken anything for the pain?” She shakes her head minutely. I get her something from the medicine cabinet in the bathroom, and when I get back, Annie has shifted closer to her sister, making room for me. I slide under the covers beside her, the three of us squashed in the bed like sardines. Annie drops her head to my shoulder.

“I'm so tired.”

“I know, baby. Close your eyes.” I want to say the right thing to comfort her, but my heart is so full of worry for my family, and my head so condensed with exhaustion that the words don't come. The silence stretches out, and I fall asleep wondering how on earth we are all going to get through this unscathed.

* * *

The next thing I know, Beth is shaking me awake.

“It's already eight.” She hands me a cup of coffee with one hand, the other on Annie's shoulder, squeezing gently.

“Let her sleep a while longer.” I can't be sure that I fell asleep first, but I have a feeling that she lay awake until the early hours.

“I think she's having a nightmare,” Beth takes a sip from her own mug. “She made the same face as a kid.”

“Not surprising, really. Where are the kids? Where's Dean?”

“I have no idea where Dean is, but the kids are watching a Disney movie and eating ice cream and sprinkles for breakfast. Thank God it's a Saturday.” I raise my eyebrows, surprised. Beth's an amazing mother, but sundaes in front of morning cartoons seems more like the kind of thing Annie would do with Sadie.

“Seriously?” Beth laughs.

“Yep. Seemed like the best way to keep them out of trouble while we sort out the grown-up stuff- hey, you're up.” Annie is groaning beside me, her hands gripping the sheets in tight fists. She looks worse today. The cut on her cheek has split open in the night. The blood contrasts with her pale skin and light hair, and the bruising is starker in the harsh light of day. She touches her cheek and winces.

“I miss my old face. Y'know, the one that didn't make me look like The Elephant Man.”

“Well, at least your sense of humor didn't get knocked out of you.” Beth takes one arm, I the other, and we hoist Annie to a sitting position.

“I think we can all be grateful for that. Is that coffee? I knew I liked you, sis.” Beth fetches her an icepack and a few of the pain pills she was given for Dean after the car accident, and perches at the foot of the bed.

“So what's the plan?”

“I need to get back to the hospital,” I say, stretching until I hear my shoulders click. “Stan has a shift at nine, and I don't want Sara to be alone.”

“Okay, so you do that, and I'm gonna dig a hole and crawl in there to die.” Annie blows on her steaming coffee. “So what, shall we say mimosas at three?” Beth has her back to us as she rummages through her dresser, but I can almost hear her eyes rolling.

It should be a relief that Annie is closer to being her normal self, but something in my subconscious twists in protest every time I look at her. To someone who doesn't know her, it might seem that she just deals very well with trauma. What I'm concerned about is that she's just very good at hiding it. She's keeping her true emotions locked up behind her carefully constructed walls, and it could be a struggle to knock them down again.

* * *

We leave Annie watching the kids while Beth drives me to the hospital. Her fingers drum against the steering wheel every time we come to a standstill, feet tapping in time as if to silent music. It's raining, so the traffic is bad.

“We need to talk about your sister.” I tell her, wiping a small circle into the condensation on the window with the sleeve of my jacket. Beth glances in my direction.

“What about her?” I turn in my seat to face her, brow raised. She sighs, leaning back and thumping the back of her skull against the headrest. “Alright. I know.”

“You know?”

“Yup.”

“What do you know?” Beth grits her teeth, the muscles in her jaw tightening under her porcelain skin.

“Don't make me say it.”

“Say what?” She smacks both hands against the wheel, the horn giving a staccato blast as if giving sound to her annoyance. The driver in front turns and flips us the bird.

“God _damn_ it _,_ Ruby. I know she didn't just get beat up last night, okay? I _know_. I knew from the minute I first saw her.” The traffic starts moving again, and we crawl a few inches forward.

“So how come you haven't confronted her? Beth, you're her sister!” Beth's gaze is fixed on the road, not daring to even look at me.

“When has she ever been able to take anything seriously? I'm worried that if we push her, she'll shut down. She's already pretty defensive as is. Besides, you know Annie as well as I do, so why haven't you confronted her yourself?”

“You're right, you're right. I wanted her to make the first move.” Beth pulls into the hospital carpark, scanning for the drop-off zone.

“Only thing is, I've been thinking about it, and I'm not sure that's gonna cut it this time around. There's a lot at stake here, and as cold as it sounds; we cannot afford for Annie to go off the rails right now. For her sake, for ours, for _all_ our families. We need her to know that _we_ know what happened, and that we support her. And it has to be soon.”

“So what do you suggest?” Beth takes my hand, and squeezes it between both of hers.

“A united front. Instead of trying to coax it out of her, we tell her what we know.”

“And then?”

“I have absolutely no idea. But the sooner we get it out in the open, the sooner she can start to process it.” I stare out at the rain, watching it create tiny tide-pools in the crevices and cracks of the sidewalk. Beth gives me a gentle push. “Go on. Go and see Sara- will you tell her I'm sending her love?”

“Of course. And I'll work on Stan.” I pull my hood up, doing my best to avoid the puddles as I step out of the car. I watch Beth drive away, with a heavy, sinking feeling settling at the bottom of my chest. “Lord, give me strength.” I breathe as I turn, and start walking up the steps to the hospital entrance.

 


End file.
